Angels Fear to Hover, Devils Come to Preen
by Tripp Static
Summary: Christian Harbor, and his almost fiancee, Marci Crowning were murdered late Devil's Night at a convenience store. He is brought back to seek revenge, and ends up protecting Marci's little sister.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Not mine, believe me, if the story of the Crow was mine, I'd be rich..but I'm not. I'm dirt poor, so yeah, dont own anything but the characters.

October 30, Devil's Night

Christian Harbor stopped his car outside the 7-11. His girlfriend of 3 years, Marci Crowning, sat in the passenger seat next to him.

"What are we doing here?" Marci's younger sister, Sydney said from the backseat.

"Cigarettes." Marci answered simply. "Need anything?"

Sydney thought a second. "No, I'm fine." She answered, sitting back in her seat.

Marci turned to Christian. "Come inside with me." She said.

"I don't really feel like it." Christian said.

"Please." Marci said, pouting.

"Fine, fine." Christian said, after a moment.

Marci smiled, her light green eyes brightening. She unhooked her seatbelt, and after Christian casually messed with his mohawk, the two climbed out of the small car.

"Oh wait." Sydney said loudly, leaning up to speak to Christian through Marci's open window. "Gummi bears.........please."

Christian waved his hand through the air to signal that he heard her. She sighed and sat back, then she glanced at her watch: 10:47. Meanwhile, Christian and Marci were inside at the counter getting their cigarettes. Christian reached into his pocket for his wallet.

"Oh, the gummi bears." He said, remembering Sydney's request.

"I'll get 'em." Marci said, cheerily, before turning and walking towards the candy isle.

"So," the clerk, a nerdy old guy, trying to be cool, said, "Devil's night huh? Been to any parties tonight?"

"Yeah." Christian said, starting to tell the clerk about the local band they had went and seen.

Sydney climbed up front in Marci's seat to pull the visor down and check the mirror. The 17-year-old combed her fingers through her long light brown hair, and pulled a piece of silver confetti from the underage nightclub out of it. She gave it a look of 'what the hell', before dropping it out Marci's window.

Bang, bang, bang! There was suddenly the sound of three gunshots. Sydney started and looked towards the 7-11. She made out the 5 figures shrouded in darkness as they ran from the small store. They ran towards the alley, yelling at each other to 'Go!'. Sydney could hear people yelling from inside the 7-11. Her heart leapt to her throat as she heard sirens in the distance. She flew from the car, stepping on the bottoms of her baggy jeans and almost falling. She ran into the small convenience store, people were crowded around talking, saying things like 'Oh my God!'. A store employee was on the phone. Sydney froze, she had suddenly spotter Christian lying on the floor, in a large puddle of red, that stained his long, cargo shorts. Sydney threw herself on the floor, blood splashing up as she landed on her knees. Christian was still breathing, but with much difficulty, there was a wound right in the middle of his stomach.

"Jesus." Sydney exclaimed, this couldn't be happening.

As she felt the tears well up, she grabbed Christian's hand and he squeezed it tightly. Sydney suddenly wondered where Marci was, why wasn't she with Christian, her almost fiancée? Her question was answered when Christian started to speak. His voice was cracked and broken, and she couldn't understand him.

"What?" Sydney asked.

Christian took a struggling breath, "Marci." He said finally.

Sydney's head shot up, and she seen the body of her sister, lying on the floor about 11 feet away, near the candy isle. Christian let go of Sydney's hand, and she turned back to him.

"Hold on." She said, before standing and running to Marci.

She dove to her knees yet again landing in a puddle of blood. She grabbed Marci's head, but her older sister didn't move. Her normally bright green eyes were dull, and focused on the ceiling, the lights reflecting off of them, like a China doll's eyes.

"No!" Sydney exclaimed, breaking into a fit of hysterical sobs, this couldn't be happening. "No..."

All of a sudden, the two strong arms of a cop, grabbed her from behind and pulled her to her feet.

"No." Sydney said again, the only thing she could say, as she struggled to break free.

As the cop pulled her away from Marci, he told her things like: 'Stay calm' and 'Come with me', but Sydney couldn't focus on that, her thoughts were on Marci. She looked back at Christian who was being moved onto a stretcher.

"We're losing him." A paramedic said.

"No!" Sydney shouted between sobs, again fighting to break the cop's grip, but it proved useless and she was pulled outside, where two cops talked to her.

"Ma'am." The first one said, "You're going to have to tell us exactly what happened."

"Marci.........Christian.........my sister........." Sydney couldn't form actual sentences, as she broke into incoherent speech.

The second cop looked at the first one. "Take her down to the station, try to calm her down, then maybe we can talk to her." She said.

The first one agreed, and grabbed Sydney's arm.

"Come with me, ma'am." He said.

He sat Sydney in the backseat of a squad car, before he climbed into the front. He started the car, and drove away from the 7-11, as Sydney cried softly in the backseat. The cop grabbed a walkie-talkie.

"What's going on?" he asked the person on the other line.

Sydney quieted down in order to hear what was said. A staticy voice came back.

"We're losing him." It said. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"And the girl?" the cop asked hesitantly.

There was a long moment of silence, in which Sydney prayed, prayed to anyone who would listen. Please, not Marci, of everyone she knew, Marci was the nicest, with her gentle smile, and always bright eyes.

"We lost her." The voice said.

Sydney closed her eyes, and broke into more sobs. Not Marci, not the sweet, innocent 22-year old that Sydney knew, it couldn't happen. It wasn't fair. The rest of the time was a blur. She was taken down to the station, where different cops interrogated her. She told them everything, all the while tears streaming down her face. She told them of hearing the gunshots, and of the 5 figures. But they just wouldn't leave her alone, they kept asking.

"That's all I know!" she exclaimed, pounding her fist on the table-top.

The cops looked at each other as if to say: 'That's it'. All of a sudden, the door of the small room opened and a different cop entered.

"Brooks," he said, "Report from the hospital."

Sydney's eyes flew to the young rookie at the door, Christian! Was he alright?!

"Yes?" one of the first cops Sydney seen asked.

"They lost him." The rookie replied slowly.

Sydney put her head down on the table, and her shoulders shook as she weeped. The cops tried to comfort her, but she knew nothing would work. Knowing that Marci was dead, Christian had been Sydney's only hope, the only thing she had left. But now, they were both gone.

"Come on Ms. Crowning," Brooks said, "Let's get you home."

Later as Sydney was climbing out of Brooks' squad car, he looked at her carefully.

"Would you like someone to stay with you tonight?" he asked, "I understand the only people you lived with were your sister and her boyfriend."

"No." Sydney answered, "This is all just a bad dream, and I'll be waking up soon."

Brooks nodded, not saying anything to that comment. "I'll have someone check on you in the morning Ms. Crowning." He said.

Sydney nodded and walked up to her house. It was quiet and dark as she climbed the stairs to her room. It felt so lonely, so empty. Sydney didn't turn on the light in her room. She just threw herself on the bed, and screamed into the pillow. Even her cat, Gabriel couldn't even relieve her of the apathy she felt.

His dark eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air. He was lying on one of the body drawers at the hospital, before the doctors were to perform the autopsies. Taking in large amounts of air, he sat up, and looked at himself. His shorts were covered in blood, as was his gray Iron Maiden tee shirt. He reached down and lifted his shirt, which was a hard thing to do, considering it was plastered to his stomach with his blood. There was a small wound in the middle of his abs, and he tenderly touched it, though it didn't hurt. He took in more breaths and dropped the shirt. Then he reached up and ran his fingers through his matted down hair, no longer in the style of a mohawk.

He sighed and looked around. The drawer next to his was also open, but that body was covered with a light blue sheet. He slid off the drawer and landed shakily on the floor. He slowly moved to the other drawer. Then he reached down and grabbed the sheet. He lifted it up, and was given a sudden pain, the body was a girl, he remembered her with her brown hair and light skin. He dropped the sheet, and fell to the floor shaking. A label on the front of the drawer read "Marci Crowning, female, 23 years old".

"Twenty-two." He said quietly, "Not twenty-three."

He looked at the label on his drawer: "Christian Harbor, male, 25 years old." He fell back to the floor as a memory consumed his mind. He and Marci, lying on a couch together, smiling, they were happy with each other, talking softly. He stood up again, quickly, forcing the memory away, it just cause him pain. He turned and looked at the exit of the room, a glass door, and no one stood outside it. He quickly flew forward and left the room. Then he shot off down the hall, towards the exit. He had to get out of there.


	2. Chapter 01

Woah took me a while to update huh? This is for Hope-Corven, just cause she seemed to like it. So this goes out to you! Its (very) short, but if you like it, I will update this on a regular basis. So tell me what ya think!

The sky had turned an even darker shade of black as the bloodied Christan staggered down the sidewalk. Dogs barked in the distance, and he could hear car alarms blaring from the local thugs screwing around like normal. He knew it wasnt Devil's Night, the night he was...killed. But he didnt know how long after it was. He didnt know much of anything, except where he was going.

A sudden noise from the alley made Christian start. He turned quickly to see an old bum come limping into view. Christian immediately felt a pang of pity for the man with the blackened teeth, and straw-like hair. The bum looked at him as if to say: "Yeah, I'm a bum. Are you gonna kick me around like the other punks?" But Christian just stood there. He couldnt explain why, but he saw so much more than this dirt covered, time worn man.

"What are yeh lookin' at?" the bum asked, his "accent" making it hard to understand fully.

"Why do you do this?" Christian asked quietly, hearing his voice was weird.

"Do what?" the bum asked, as confused as Christian felt.

"Lead this kind of life." Christian answered, "You have the power to do something about it."

"Like what?" the bum asked, throwing his arms out at his sides.

"Get a job." Christian answered. "Buy a small apartment, or something."

"Look. Yeh dont understand," the bum replied, looking down, as if he hadnt expected anyone to actually care.

Christian moved foward, and the bum stepped back hesitantly at the sight of dried blood on Christian's shirt. Christian reached up slowly as the old man froze, and held his breath. But Christian only placed his hands on the sides of the man's face. He didnt know what he had been expecting, but something told him to do it. The old man's eyes were full of not only confusion but fear as well. Just as Christian was about to move his hands, memories flooded through his mind. But not his memories, the old man's. He saw the bum getting kicked as he minded his own buisness trying to sleep in the corners of alleys, the teenagers doing it pretending they were tough, as they told him what a piece of shit he was. Christian quickly yanked his hands away, not wanting to see anymore, he didnt like thinking of the stuff that happened to bums.

"What are yeh?" the bum asked, fear replaced by awe.

"I dont know." Christian replied quietly. His voice got louder again. "You need to find help. Get yourself cleaned up and get a job."

"Its harder than yeh think." the bum said, but he stopped at the look on Christians face. Something told this old man that this boy knew what he was talking about, and that he could be trusted. "Okay." was all the man said.

Christian stared at the man a while longer, the two saying nothing, but understanding everything. Finally, Christian turned and started walking again, the old man watching him like he was a guardian angel or something. Christian took a deep breath, taking in the warm night air. He looked up, sensing someone besides the old man watching him. But all he saw was a bird. A big black crow staring down at him from one of the street signs. Its beady eyes studied him intently, and Christian stopped. The crow cocked his head, and let out a cackle, before flying away into the shadows.


	3. Chapter 02:

The house was quiet as he stood outside. It appeared almost pasted against the dark sky in a weird artsy way. The only light came from the single window on the second floor-Sydney's room. Christian looked at the broken street lamp, surprised at the memories it held. It had in fact been where Marci and he first kissed. Thats why they had bought that house.

He sighed emptily, and headed up towards the front door. The porch stairs creaked under his weight, and his boots clunked loudly on the time-worn wood. He reached up and touched the door knob, only to find it was locked. He hadnt expected it to be open, especially after the night Sydney had.

He looked around and spotted the small gargoyle statue that Marci had picked up at a yard sale. It's distorted face showed melancholy, and Christian half expected it to break out sobbing in front of him. He bent and lifted the statue. Sure enough, a spare key was attached to the bottom with a piece of tape. He pulled the key off and let himself in the house.

It was deadly silent throughout the small home. A slight ticking noise came from the kitchen-the clock. Christian glanced around before walking slowly up the stairs. Instinctively, he walked down the hall to the master bedroom, his and Marci's room. He flicked the lightswitch and the small lamp on Marci's side of the bed was the only light to come on. Then he walked slowly to the bed, and sat down. He lay down and breathed in the smell of Marci's shampoo-coconut melon, he'd always loved it.

Christian felt the hot tears form in his eyes, and he quickly brushed them away, almost laughing dryly. He was Christian Marc Harbor. He didnt cry...never. But it came so easy now. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, this couldnt be happening. He couldnt even explain what was happening. He should have been dead now, lying on that tray next to Marci, waiting for the autopsy.

Before more tears could form, Christian quickly got up. He walked to the closet and threw open the doors quietly, just in case Sydney was sleeping. He changed his bloody clothes into something more suitable for his mood: baggy black pants, and a black mesh sleeveless shirt, keeping his boots on. Then he left his bedroom and walked down the hall to the door that led to Sydney's room. The door was open halfway, and a light flickered inside. Christian opened the door more to find candles lit everywhere, and Sydney face down in her bed. Her window was open, and the curtains billowed from the slight wind.

Christian stood in the doorway watching as Sydney's back rose and fell with each shallow breath. It appeared as if she had cried herself to sleep. Christian shoved his hands into his pockets, and entered the room more. Most of the candles were sitting on Sydney's vanity table, while a single black one sat on her bedside table. Christian walked to the vanity and hesitantly sat down on the small stool. His reflection wasnt all that bad for a dead person. He actually looked as alive as he had been.

He looked at all the pictures littering the small table, and taped to the sides of the mirror. There were some of Sydney's favorite rock band, she was a bit obsessive when it came to that, but most were of Marci and/or Christian. A particular picture caught his eye, and Christian pulled it down from its spot on the mirror. It was of he and Marci standing outside what looked to be a theatre. There was a large sign in the background, the one with the masks. Only one of the masks was visible though, the mask of irony. Christian studied it a moment before he had an idea...more of an impluse.

He picked up one of Sydney's stray black eyeliners, and he carefully drew on his face, the marks of irony. A line through his right eye, then his left, and finally a smile that slanted right up his cheekbones. Something still wasnt right, his lips..they were too...alive. He picked up a tube of black lipstick and put it on, seemingly well being that it was the first time in his life that he had ever worn lipstick. Well, the first time in his death.

Setting the lipstick down, he gazed at himself once more in the mirror. He was almost proud at what he saw. His mask was complete, ironic, yet it made him look like a skeleton almost...like he should-dead.

Suddenly, Sydney stirred behind him on her bed. Christian jumped up and turned. What would be her reaction? But she had only rolled over so that she was now facing him. Slowly, Christian neared her sleeping form, looking down at her in pain. Her mascara and eyeliner had run from her tears, leaving black streaks down her cheeks. 'Heh,' Christian thought dryly, 'her own mask.'

He reached down and ran a hand over her cheek. She had always been close to him, but not like a sister. And thats what made it cool between them. They didnt feel related in any way, they just liked each others company.

Before Christian could register what had happened, Sydney was against the wall staring at him with wide eyes. His hand lay useless at his side now as he stared at the floor, oddly ashamed of how he looked.

"Christian?!" Sydney exclaimed, her voice barely audible over a whisper.

"Hey Syd." Christian replied, slowly.

"Oh my God." Sydeny said shakily, "Christian...how...?"

He shook his head. "I dont know." he answered. "I wish I did."

"But..." Sydney said, "You're supposed to be dead."

There was a hesitant pause and Christian finally met her gaze. "I am." he said.

Sydney's eyes widened even more if possible, as Christian pulled up his shirt to reveal what used to be the gunshot wound. Only now it was a pockmark, as if it had been nothing.

"I cant explain it." Christian said, "I..."

Sydney looked at him more closely. "What did you do to your face?" she asked.

"Make-up." Christian answered, "The mask of--"

"Irony." Sydney finished, then she looked down. "Wow...this is..unbelievable."

"I know." Christian said, "I was brought back to life for something though, not just to be brought back. I just...have a pounding headache." he rubbed his temples. "I dont know what to think."

"Revenge." Sydney said quietly.

"What?" Christian asked.

"Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord." Sydney said looking back at him, she suddenly seemed a bit excited. "Maybe you were brought back to seek..justice."

Christian looked at the ground again, his brow furrowing. Now that she said that, it made sense.

"You know, find the people who killed you...and Marci." Sydney said, her voice lowering when she said her sisters name.

There was a sudden scratching noise, and the two looked at the window to see a crow perched on the sill, staring in at them from between the black drapes. Christian stared at it, as it stared back, its beady eyes seemed to read him like a book.

"This crow has something to do with it." Christian said, not taking his eyes off the big black bird, which cocked its head again, as if it understood him. "I dont know what, but he does."


End file.
